Thistle & Weeds
by Tears of Ebon-Grey
Summary: The music was infectious, the culture invigorating; New Orleans was like a drug and she the addict. Caroline was finally happy. And yet, something wasn't quite right. Klaus was hiding something from her. She should have known better than to think that any of this would last... (Sequel to 'Beautiful War')
1. Part One

**I won't bore you all with a longwinded author's note.**

**What I will say however, before this adventure begins, is that this is another three-part story and the sequel to **Beautiful War**. If you haven't already read **Beautiful War** then I strongly suggest you do so before starting this. **

**On a side note, how awesome was the new episode of The Originals? :)**

**Anyway, please let me know what you think. Feedback is invaluable. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The warmth of his breath, the wet brush of his tongue as he slowly kissed a trail down her collarbone, pulling aside the soft lace material of her summer dress so that he had unfettered access, exploring with teeth and tongue the creamy white arch of her neck; it destroyed all reason. She wanted to berate him, to swat away his reaching hand as it slowly glided up her leg. Her senses were in total overdrive. His arm wrapped around her like a vice, holding her in place as he explored in leisure, nipping the soft skin behind her ear, his hand drawing maddening patterns along her inner thigh.

Caroline tilted her head unknowingly, offering him better access as she brushed away her hair. She leaned back, breathing softly as he continued to explore her. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world if they wished it. And she did wish it, so desperately that she had to force herself to remain still. This time would be different. They weren't in the woods. They didn't have to rush. No frantic kisses stolen in the heat of the moment, no wooden bark biting into skin. This was not scandalous sex. It was an exploration long overdue.

She let her hand slide down to his wandering one, guiding him to where she wanted him most. A soundless gasp formed on her lips, her body arching back as he finally, _finally_ took the hint. She could feel the smirk on his lips as her head fell back, resting on his shoulder as she expelled a soft moan. This was what she wanted. After three weeks of dancing around the inevitable they had finally come to this. What had possessed her to think that _this_ was a bad idea? It was the best idea. It was –

Caroline gasped suddenly, her eyes flying open as Klaus spun her around in his arms. She looked into his eyes, mouth moving soundlessly he continued to slide his fingers along her heat teasingly. She didn't think she could take much more of this. Her body was wound so tight that she felt an inexplicable desire to simply launch herself at him and take what she wanted without care. He smiled knowingly, leaning forward to capture her lips, swallowing her moan as he finally sunk his fingers into her hot warmth.

Klaus gripped the back of her neck, her hair bunched painfully in his strength. She didn't care. Caroline moved on instinct, her body rhythmically searching for release. He watched her take her fill, eyes darkening as she leaned forward to capture him in a bruising kiss.

Close. She was so unbelievably close.

Klaus growled suddenly. She was vaguely aware of her phone ringing. It sounded far off, like something from a dream. She couldn't be bothered to care. As if sensing her need, her desperation, Klaus pressed the pad of his thumb hard against her.

It was hard to describe the feeling of utter bliss. It was like a coil had sprung loose, the knot in her abdomen suddenly awash with warmth. Her body arched, mouth open in a wordless sigh. Her nails dug into his shoulders bitingly as she rode out her pleasure.

Caroline's shoulders sagged slightly as she fell forward, burying her forehead into the dark material of his shirt. Three weeks she had waited for this. Why she had waited at all seemed ridiculous now. Klaus ran a hand along her back, his nails gently digging in. If she was a cat, she might have purred at the sensation. The soft rumbling at the back of her throat might have been just that.

Klaus gently kissed the top of her head. "Whoever keeps calling you has a death wish."

She laughed at his soft grumble, moving out of his arms. Klaus looked offended by the move, giving her a look that said he clearly couldn't believe that she would look at her phone now, of all times.

"It might be important," she smiled apologetically, skipping out of his reach as he tried to grab the hem of her sundress. He simply growled in response.

Caroline moved to the bag she had carelessly thrown against the bedroom closet, bending down to find the object that seemed to cause Klaus such offence. She stared at the screen in confusion.

Three missed calls. From Enzo, of all people.

Caroline frowned at the tiny black object as a multitude of questions crossed her mind. Why would Enzo call her? It didn't make any sense. They were friendly but they weren't exactly _friends._ The last time they had spoken he'd been in a foul mood, the failure of finding Maggie destroying almost all of his charm. He had been so spiteful at first, but as she had sat there, listening to his tirade without a word, his spite had turned to sorrow. Enzo was pretty much the reason she was here. He had made her think in his sorrow and she felt she owed him for that.

She offered Klaus a weak smile. He groaned, falling back almost dramatically against the bed. Caroline tried to stifle her laugh.

Klaus was mean. He was guarded and careful and pretty much the biggest monster to ever walk the earth. But sometimes, sometimes when he let his guard down, he was just a man, a gorgeous and absolutely ridiculous man.

He moved off the bed quickly then, grabbing his jacket with an exaggerated swipe of his hand. His kiss was bruising as he pushed her against the wall. His stubble scratched her cheek, his mouth moving to her ear. "You have ten minutes. Otherwise, I'm throwing your phone out the window."

He was gone before she could do anything more than narrow her eyes.

Caroline moved to sit on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly dialling Enzo's number on her phone. She picked at the soft white sheets while she waited. It was strange; she had always kind of pictured Klaus to be a black sheets kind of guy. This was the first time she had been to his studio since that first day. It felt like a lifetime ago but in reality only three weeks had passed.

Three weeks.

Three weeks of letting him woo her. Three weeks of dinners and dances by candlelight, of endless tours of the Quarter; Caroline had seen and done just about everything the French Quarter had to offer. Klaus had even tried to teach her to paint, his impromptu lesson unceremoniously sprung upon her while they took a walk in the park. It had been three weeks of happiness, of care free enjoyment, but Caroline knew that eventually it would end. She had to go back to Whitmore at some point and when she did, well they would just have to figure something out.

"Hey Goldilocks," Enzo's dark voice floated down the receiver, his accent thicker than normal. She thought he sounded almost upset, like he had been drinking for a while.

Caroline tucked a curl behind her ear. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, everything's just peachy love. Nothing to really worry about; everyone is making moon eyes at each other, so the usual drama," his laugh was dark, tone almost bitter.

"And you? Is everything alright with you?"

Caroline waited patiently but Enzo didn't reply. It worried her.

"Enzo, you called me three times," she persisted calmly, eying the digital clock on the nightstand beside her. Klaus would absolutely throw her phone out the window. He was selfish that way. The only time he wouldn't dare, she thought in amusement, was if it was her mother. "What's wrong?"

She heard the sound of liquid sloshing around in a bottle. Definitely drinking then.

"Nothing," he finally replied after some time had passed. "Just – I heard you went down south for a while. What was it Stefan said? Ah, yes. You were visiting family or something to that effect."

The way he said it, the sarcastic knowing lilt in his voice, gave him away immediately. There was no game afoot. Enzo wanted her to know that he knew. He _knew_ where she was. More importantly, he knew why she was there. How could he not after she'd told him everything that day.

_And your epic love, Goldilocks. Have you found him yet?_ His words echoed in her mind.

Stefan was the only person who knew where she was. Her mother thought that she was visiting Stephen; it had been such a long time since she had last seen him. Her friends, they didn't know any different. She needed a break from Whitmore, from everything that had happened. Why would they question if she was lying when she said that she was helping her dead father's boyfriend move house? No one really wanted to have_ that_ conversation.

"So you know where I am," she stated defensively. If he told them, she really would claw her frustration out on his skin.

"No need to snap, my perky little angel. I just wanted to see if you found what you were looking for," Caroline ground her teeth at the nickname but stopped short from snapping at him a second time. He sounded sincere enough. And she supposed, after that conversation, they did sort of have an invested interest in each others 'epic love' or whatever you wanted to call it. "Did you?"

The conversation was eerily reminiscent of the one that she had had with Stefan some weeks ago. Caroline had figured out what she wanted pretty quickly after that. But had she found her epic love? That was a big call. Klaus was volatile and obstinate; perhaps the most difficult man to ever walk the earth when he had his mind set on something. He was good to her though. Sweet when he wanted to be, surprisingly funny and older than sin. He was also ridiculously selfish but he made her happy.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "I think so. What about you? Have you heard anymore about Mag – "

"Best not to think on it love," Enzo interrupted her. Caroline could hear the sadness in his voice. She could hear the pain. "I think that ship has sailed."

Caroline sighed. Enzo was a good man beneath the facade. "I'm sorry."

"It's probably for the best," he offered half-heartedly, taking another long swig of whatever he had decided to drown his sorrows in this time. She felt bad for him. "You sound happy. I'm...glad."

She didn't think he was. Not really.

"Thank you," her voice was soft, comforting. She tried to pour all the empathy she could into those two small syllables. They weren't just friendly, they _were_ friends. She didn't know why she couldn't see it before now.

"Well, best get back to it then. Bloodied mayhem and torture won't start itself you know," Enzo quipped lightly. He was putting on a show, she could tell, but Caroline let it slide. It would do nothing to break down his facade, not when he was so obviously alone and she was his port of comfort.

"Try to be good."

Enzo simply laughed.

Caroline ended the call with a small smile at his teasing reply. _Never_. She supposed it was true; he would never really _try _to be good. He _was _good, whether he knew it or not.

She hated that he was drinking alone. Damon was probably too busy making eyes at Elena to notice his friend's pain. She would have to ask Stefan to check on him for her. She knew that there was no love loss between the two. Enzo was a bad influence on Damon but Damon was equally as bad for him; Caroline firmly believed that.

Maybe she should have lied. It might have been more merciful to say that she hadn't found what she was looking for. Perhaps it would have given him some comfort to know that he was not the only one, that he was not alone in his sorrow. He would know that she was lying though.

Running a hand over her face tiredly, Caroline looked around the room. It would not be long before Klaus was back and try as she might, Caroline could not recreate the feeling of excitement inside her. The conversation had quelled any and all desire. She felt...sad. The way Enzo had talked about Maggie all those months ago; it sucked that he didn't get to have his happy ending.

Caroline needed a drink.

She picked up her bag, carelessly tossing her phone inside, just in time for the door to open. Klaus looked at her, a takeaway coffee cup in each hand. He pursed his lips, a small frown crinkling his forehead.

He sighed and looked down at the coffee in his hands. "By the look of it you need something stronger than this."

Caroline smiled apologetically and walked towards him.

She took the coffee cup from his offered hand and wound her arm through his. Klaus nodded his head in what appeared to be resignation and slowly led them downstairs and out of the apartment. They walked in a comfortable silence but Caroline could tell that he wanted to ask her who she had been talking to. Perhaps it was instinct, or maybe she selfishly wanted to keep Enzo's friendship a secret, whatever it was, it told her to say nothing. Klaus would likely see Enzo as some sort of threat and Caroline did _not_ want to deal with that scenario.

By the time they had reached Rousseau's her coffee cup was empty. As she moved to chuck the paper cup in the bin, she became aware of the eyes watching her. She tried to ignore them. Being on Klaus' arm drew more attention than she was comfortable with. On the rare occasion that Klaus left her unguarded, left her to wander the city on her own as he took care of whatever business he had in the Bayou, even though a part of her knew that she was never really alone, she would hear them whispering behind their hands as she passed by. _Genevieve's replacement_.

Genevieve. She'd heard about the witch's death from the whispers on the street. The beautiful woman she'd spied in the alleyway that day was dead. It was all very tragic and a little too convenient. If Caroline was being honest with herself, truly honest, then the knot in her stomach, the one that twisted in guilt whenever she heard the woman's name, was an indication of the truth. Tripping down the stairs, breaking her neck; it was too convenient to be believable.

Caroline hoped that he didn't do it.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't want to be responsible for someone's death. She didn't want to be the cause, the trigger that had unleashed what seemed to be a power struggle among the witches of the French Quarter. But somewhere, deep down, Caroline knew that she was to blame. She was not so naive as to believe in coincidence anymore, not where Klaus was concerned. It would have been so much easier to simply ask him if he had done it, if he had killed his lover simply because she was a complication. Instead, she tried to ignore the gnawing guilt in her gut. She didn't want to know. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

He guided her into the bar, hand splayed possessively across her lower back. Some brunette was working behind the bar today. Caroline found herself slightly disappointed. She somewhat liked Camille. Or rather, she liked the way the blonde bartender seemed to bristle with contempt at Klaus' continued presence in her life. There was something all too familiar about the woman's indignant disapproval of anything remotely related to the hybrid. It was amusing to watch him simply sit back and take each insult with a patronising tilt of the head and dimpled smile.

Caroline liked it here. She liked New Orleans and the people in it. She liked how every day there seemed to be something new happening. The music was infectious, the culture invigorating; New Orleans was like a drug and she the addict. Caroline didn't think she'd ever want to leave.

Which was the problem.

Klaus brought her a small tumbler of bourbon from the bar, sitting down beside her. She blamed Stefan for her newfound appreciation of the drink. Bourbon and whiskey was all they really had over at Castle de la Salvatore. She missed the days where a vodka tonic was her poison of choice. Now it was like drinking water.

He fiddled with her hair, trying to distract her, trying to draw her attention away from the dark amber liquid that she seemed so focused on.

"You seem distracted, sweetheart. Who were you talking to earlier?" his question fell on deaf ears as she continued to stare into the contents of her glass.

How would she tell them, Caroline wondered.

What would they say when they finally realised that she wasn't coming back? Because the truth was that Caroline didn't want to go back to Whitmore. She didn't want to go back to Mystic Falls. Talking to Enzo had made her sad. It made her feel guilty for not being able to help, but it had also made her realise something. Mystic Falls, it was a conduit for death. She had grown up there, felt safe and happy as a naive and ignorant human girl. But now that she was older, different, the place only held memories of death. Vicki's death. Alaric's. Her father's. She had even begun to associate Whitmore with Jesse and what had happened to him.

New Orleans was a fresh start. She felt happy here. There was no drama, no Big Bad to worry about, discounting of course the man beside her. New Orleans spoke of life and Mystic Falls of death.

She wouldn't go back.

Her comfortable silence was broken then as a man stumbled through the door. Caroline's senses prickled and she instinctively thought _wolf. _And then she smelt it. The blood.

She eyed the stranger with wide, almost disbelieving curiosity. He was covered in blood, his dark blue tartan shirt stained red. His eyes seemed to glide over her as he rushed forward, toward Klaus. It was only then that she realised Klaus had moved, standing so suddenly and moving forward so quickly to catch the man as he fell forward.

Caroline jolted from her seat, instinctively moving to help Klaus manoeuvre the stranger onto the floor, propping him up so that he could lean his weight against the side of the booth. She eyed the wound on his side, watching almost fixatedly as it continued to pulse with blood. She swallowed hard and beat back the bloodlust.

"Jackson," Klaus lifted the man's head as it rolled to the side, eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Klaus persisted with an almost feral shake. "What happened? Jackson!? Are they –"

"Bayou. Under attack," the wolf gasped brokenly. "Marcel."

Klaus growled, moving to rush to the door but Jackson lifted a hand, stilling him. Caroline could only watch with wide eyes, her palms pressed on the man's wound as she desperately tried to staunch the bleeding. Who was Marcel?

"Tried to get them away," the man coughed. "Told her to run... to call Elijah. I would get you."

Klaus nodded his head.

There was a fire in his eyes that Caroline had never seen before, a sort of impenetrable determination. He looked at her briefly, opened his mouth as if to say something but simply shook his head. Klaus leaned forward to kiss her cheek and then he was gone, so quickly she barely had time to blink.

All she could think as she knelt beside the dying man, blood soaking into her white dress, was one thing.

_Who_ was in the Bayou? 

* * *

**Cliffhanger. Cliffhanger. Cliffhanger. **

**Feel free to berate me in the comments/reviews below ;)**


	2. Part Two

**Thank you all for your support. I loved reading all of your comments. They were certainly interesting.**

**A few people have mentioned my use of Enzo in this story and as a trigger for bringing Caroline to NOLA in the first place. I will say one thing about Enzo; I have a long term plan for him. He may not necessarily show up in this story but, he may or may not have a very important role in future instalments to this series. **

**Yes, I said that. 'This series'. **

**I find, as a writer, it is easier for me to commit to and complete shorter stories with one over-arching theme attached to them. **Beautiful War** was Caroline **_**finding Klaus**_**. **Thistle & Weeds**...well, I'm not exactly going to give away the ending yet ;)**

**So, as it is, I am committing to three (possibly four) instalments to this, the **Black Hearts Series**. **

**I hope you all had a fantastic Easter. I spent mine at the pub eating far too much chocolate ;)**

* * *

He thrust his hand inside the nearest vampire's chest, pulling with such force as his fingers closed around the traitor's heart. The man had barely had time to blink before he'd removed his heart. The screams were everywhere, echoing off the trees. Not even the sound of battle could drown out the cries of the women as they fled and the men as they fought and died where they stood. The wolves were dropping back, their number severely depleted. It was their determination to protect, their loyalty to Hayley and their pack that had Elijah tearing through Marcel's men as an unyielding and terrible force.

He would kill every last one of them, including Marcel, though he would be saved for last. Elijah did not care if his brother wished to commit the act himself. Marcel's death would be his and his alone. The man had threatened his family for far too long. He did not care if Rebekah withheld her forgiveness and never spoke to him again. Her love for Marcel had cost their family dearly in the past and he would not make the mistake of showing mercy a second time. He would not suffer the man to live another day.

Elijah tore through the battle, a violent angel of death, as he searched frantically for any sight of Hayley and the child. For Marcel to attack the Bayou, Elijah knew that he must have reached a point of desperation. The wolves were relentless in their loyalty to the young mother and Niklaus' offspring. To attack either was to court death. Elijah was determined to deliver the answering blow.

He spied the blond wolf, Oliver he believed, in the mayhem dealing strike after strike with such ferocity that Marcel's men could do little but fall back. Elijah hadn't understood at first why Niklaus had insisted on entertaining the wolves. They were feral, basic creatures. Humans bound by the moon. Their strength was fleeting. He had thought perhaps it had been for Hayley's benefit. They were her kin, after all. But no, Niklaus' motives were far different. He understood now his brother's insistence.

They were loyal, fiercely so, and fought with such abandon that they were a force to be reckoned with. The pack mentality, Elijah realised too late, was exactly why Hayley and Eva would be protected. Hayley was their kin. She was a part of their pack. As was Eva, hybrid witch or not. His brother was a smart man.

"_Elijah_!" her voice made him whirl around.

There she was, hidden among the trees, back from the fighting at the top of the hill. Her eyes were wide, their dark brown depths filled with fear and a sort of feral longing. These were her people and they were dying. He knew she wanted to fight.

He sped toward her at vampire speed, grasping desperately at her face as he looked her over for injury. She smiled sharply at him, pushing away his hands. "Marcel –"

"I know," he said simply, cutting her off. His hand crept to her face. She looked as if she was made of stone, immovable and resolute in her anger. "He will die for this, I give you my word."

Elijah Mikaelson _never_ broke his word.

Satisfaction swam in her dark brown eyes. "Good."

He noticed then her arms, free and unhindered. Accusation and fear blossomed in the grim lines of his face, the question clear in his eyes.

Hayley licked her lips, moving to step around him to survey the battle below. "She's safe." Elijah went to protest but she turned around, fixing him with an impenetrable glare. "She's _safe_, Elijah. This is _my_ pack and I _will_ fight for them, just as they are fighting for me."

He looked at her for a long time, assessing the fierce determination that seemed to radiate from the petite woman. Every muscle spoke of a tense readiness; Hayley was expectant, her body coiled and ready to attack on instinct. Never before had he seen the wolf, so volatile and unpredictable, reflected in her eyes. Elijah had only ever seen the woman.

He could not stop her. He knew that now. His protection in battle was all that he could offer the young mother now.

Hayley seemed to sense his resignation, his acceptance. She smiled almost viciously in response.

Yes, he would protect her.

Elijah would tear the world asunder if he had to in order to keep her safe. For Eva. For the wolves and their continued survival; even for Niklaus, whose feigned indifference to the woman did not fool him for one second.

Elijah would protect Hayley with his life.

Mostly, because he loved her.

* * *

She looked like an angel of death, beautiful and bloody in her panic. Caroline paced the length of the compound, her hands unconsciously picking at the dried blood on her dress. She could feel the sharp eyes of the guards watching her. A handful had been left behind to guard the old building while the rest fled the Quarter. She didn't understand what was happening. Someone was attacking the wolves in the Bayou. Beyond that, Caroline had no idea what was going on.

It had been utter chaos ever since Jackson had stumbled into Rousseau's. She'd tried to quell the werewolf's bleeding but the wound, a large gash to his side, had continued to ooze despite her best efforts. It was too severe for even her vampire blood to heal. Somehow, she had managed to get him to the compound unseen, dragging him through the back streets, compelling any and all who saw the bloodied man. He was upstairs in one of the guest rooms slowly bleeding out.

She didn't know what to do or who to call to find out what was going on. Klaus' cell went straight to voicemail and it seemed as though his sentries would do little more than stare at her when she demanded to know what was happening. Caroline had half a mind to go down to the Bayou herself. Only Stefan's voice, in her head, told her to stay. She had no idea who was attacking the wolves or why they were so important to Klaus.

Jackson's words played on repeat in her mind as she continued pace the length of the building. There was a woman in the Bayou. Someone Klaus, and seemingly Elijah, wanted kept safe. And then there was that name. Marcel. She was so certain that she had heard it before but no matter how hard she thought, Caroline could not recall where.

With a frustrated growl, she turned on her heel and started toward a nameless vampire who lounged against a pillar in what appeared to be disinterest. She must have looked a fright as she stormed towards him. Hair a mess, streaked with the same dried blood that clung to her white dress, eyes ablaze. She was scared and so,_ so_ unbelievably confused. She'd thought that New Orleans was safe. She'd thought that death would not follow her here.

What a naive thing to think when she courted Death itself.

She was about to speak, about to yell at the man, demand some sort of answer when she heard their approach. The vampire straightened, pushing himself away from the pillar with a surprised and disgruntled grimace. He had heard them too. Smelt the stench of death as they slowly filed through the compound, bloodied and harrowed.

Wolves.

She watched them with wide horrified eyes as they stumbled through. Caroline swallowed hard at the smell of all the blood. It was everywhere. They were like an army of bloodied warriors marching after battle. Even the women and the children had not been spared. Tears pricked at her eyes as she spied a blonde woman, small and so fragile, stumble toward a pillar. The woman's hair was matted with blood and dirt. A leaf was lodged in a knot behind her ear. But the woman did not seem to notice, and neither did the other women and children that flocked around her and the small infant that she had clutched to her chest.

Who would attack a woman with a newborn? What type of person did that?

Caroline felt like she could scarcely breathe as the reality of the battle began to settle in. This was not Mystic Falls. This was something else all together.

As she looked at them all, looked at their mistrusting faces and tired resignation, Caroline instinctively wanted to help. She wanted to help these people, she just didn't know how. They all looked at her as if she was some horrible, festering disease. The mistrust and hatred in their eyes was for her kind, not her alone. Caroline instinctively knew this, but it still hurt to think that she would forever be tarred by the misdeeds of her kind.

Looking at them now, watching them fall in both exhaustion and relief, the bloodied survivors of what appeared to be a slaughter; Caroline wondered, not for the first time that day, just what it was exactly she had walked into. Klaus had said nothing. She'd known that there were a few minor scuffles among the witches and werewolves and the vampires, a sort of teething issue as Klaus took control of the Quarter. But beyond that, Caroline had known nothing.

She felt like a fool.

Just as she was about to move, to try to shake herself out of this confused state and offer help, Caroline's eyes locked onto a familiar figure. She sucked in a breath at the sight of the brunette, confusion and anger swelling in her breast. Her mind could not comprehend what she saw. Dark brown eyes stared back her, the challenge clear in their depths. She scrambled for some sort of explanation but could come up with nothing.

Hayley.

What was she doing here?

Was this the family that she had betrayed them all for?

Caroline tried to find some reason for the brunette's presence, some explanation for why Klaus had let her live. Hayley had been the catalyst for it all. She'd been the one to lead his hybrids to the slaughter. She had taught Tyler how to break the sire bond. She had started it all and yet here she stood, very much alive and well. Caroline wanted to scream at her, to claw at her throat. Maybe she would have if her attention had not been drawn by the soft call of her name.

He looked like a beautiful monster, covered in the blood of his victims. She opened her mouth to say something, the confusion and relief and fear forming in the tears that brimmed in her eyes, but she could find nothing. Words seemed futile. There was so much that she wanted to say, so much that she wanted to ask. She wanted to scream her confusion, to demand answers to the thousands of questions that muddled her brain.

As if sensing her battle, Klaus moved to stand before her, his hand coming to rest in her hair. She stared up at him, silent but demanding. He knew that she wanted answers. He knew that she was confused. Klaus brought his bloody lips to her forehead. She stared at his chest, trying to ignore the tickling sensation of his breath in her hair as he simply held her.

"I'm so sorry love," he whispered after a moment. He moved back, hands framing her blonde curls. His eyes searched her face for some indication that she'd heard him, that she understood the gravity of his apology. "There is so much I need to tell you. And I will, I promise. But first I need a moment alone with my brother. Please, just give me ten minutes love and then I will tell you everything. I promise."

She simply stared at him, the words caught in her throat. Caroline wanted to yell at him but his eyes stole voice, kept her silent. He looked at her like she was the sun and he a man starved of its light. She wanted to tell him that ten minutes was too long, that she needed answers now. She deserved them. But no words would come.

He took her silence for acceptance, kissing her forehead once more before moving to follow his brother upstairs. Caroline watched the bloodied duo in silence, trying to ignore the jolt she felt as Klaus looked back. He seemed reluctant to leave. It was Elijah's impenetrable stare, his towering insistence that caused the younger Original follow. There was an unspoken tension between the two and Caroline couldn't help but think, as Elijah's hard gaze fell on her, that she was the cause.

Seconds passed, or maybe it was minutes. She didn't really know.

She felt the heat of a dozen eyes staring at her, watching the pretty blonde vampire that looked so out of place. Caroline ignored them as best she could, looking once again for Hayley's familiar brown eyes but she could not find them. Hayley was gone and so was the blonde werewolf with the baby.

She clenched and unclenched her hands in frustration. Every face turned from her, whether in fear or disgust, she did not know. Caroline felt like some sort of pariah.

"_Screw this_," her muttered exclamation drew a few stares from the vampires in attendance, but she paid them no mind as she strode toward the stairwell. She was sick of waiting, sick of not knowing. She deserved answers. Now.

Caroline followed the sound of the two originals as best she could, their voices muffled and deep inside the building. A stranger made toward her, no doubt to stop her advance, but the unknown vampire backed away at her vicious glare. Caroline Forbes was nothing if not determined and when she had her mind set, no one would stop her. Not even a nameless lackey with bad hair extensions.

Her heels clicked against the stone floor with determined regularity. When she was within hearing distance, Caroline stopped abruptly at the sound of Klaus' voice. Instinctively she moved to the nearest wall and braced herself against it so that her back was flush against the wooden panelling.

"What would you have me do, Elijah?" she heard Klaus growl in anger. He was holding something, clutching it so tightly that it began to break in his hand. She could hear the crunching sound as it finally gave way to his strength.

"I would have you _think_," the older original replied with equal vigour. Caroline had never seen nor heard Elijah Mikaelson speak in anger. He'd always been the reserved one, composed and thoroughly in control of his emotions. He was not in control now. "You act without thought and reason, Niklaus. What happened today –"

"Was always going to happen," Klaus yelled angrily. "Marcel was bound to attack at some point and –"

"You truly are a fool if you believe that. Yes, Marcel would have made his move against us at some point but he would have done so _without the aid of the witches_," Caroline jumped at the sound of glass breaking. "You are lucky that Hayley had the foresight to –"

"I am sick of hearing about Hayley," Klaus interrupted with a growl. "If you are so damn set on pining after her like the fool that you are then by all means brother, just have at it already!"

Caroline clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle a gasp at the sound of, what she assumed was Elijah's fist, connecting with his younger brother's jaw. A sort of scuffling sound followed as Elijah pinned the hybrid to the wall behind him. She could hear books falling to the floor at the force.

"You will not speak of Hayley in such a manner. She deserves your respect," Elijah whispered dangerously, his voice low and terrifyingly calm. "And you_ will_ give her the respect that she deserves. She is the mother of your _child_, Niklaus. Eva would be dead if not for Hayley. _Your daughter_ would be _dead _because you were too busy playing house in the Quarter to be there when Marcel attacked. You owe Hayley _everything_. I will not hear you talk of her that way again. Am I clear?"

Caroline breathed hard against her hand. Tears of confusion brimmed in her eyes. She didn't understand. Elijah was making no sense. Hayley was – no. _No, _Caroline thought viciously. Vampires could not procreate. Klaus, he wouldn't have a child. He _couldn't_ have a child. It was impossible. It was ridiculously impossible and yet, in the silence that followed, she did not hear him once correct his brother.

A heavy weight settled on her chest as a blinding, all-encompassing panic clawed its talons into her heart, ripping and tearing until she felt as if the organ was nothing but shredded waste. She clasped both hands to her mouth, pushing hard in her panic to drown out the harsh shuddery breaths she could not quite contain. Tears fell, carving a salty path down her cheek.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No

He would have told her –

Klaus, he –

She had to believe that he would have told her.

"This is not my fault, Elijah," his voice tore at her.

No denial. No remorse.

"Yes, it is," the older original replied softly. "If you had not killed Genevieve then the witches would have never sought Marcel's aid. This is on your shoulders, Niklaus. You do not stop to consider the consequences of your actions or the way they affect the people around you. You are blinded when it comes to Miss Forbes and –"

Caroline started at the sound of her name, eyes widening.

"Caroline has nothing to do with this," Klaus spat defensively.

"She has everything to do with this. She is the catalyst that has brought this war to a head. You are so blinded by your affection for the girl that –"

She couldn't listen to anymore of this. She just...couldn't.

Caroline pushed herself off from the wall and slowly made her way downstairs, walking as if in a daze. This entire day had gone from being one of the most wonderful to one of the most emotionally wrecking days of her life. She didn't know whether up was down or down was sideways. Her world had narrowed down to a few jumbled hours of confusion and fear. She should have known that this would be her fate. Happiness was an illusion and she was the fool.

A soft cry made her stop short. Caroline closed her eyes against the pain, her own tears escaping as she let out a pained moan. Her hand was shaking as she tried to dry her eyes, to brush away the evidence of her tears. The more she tried, the harder it was.

He had a baby.

Klaus had a baby. With Hayley.

He'd killed Genevieve.

Klaus had hidden it all.

_He'd lied to her._

A hand touched her shoulder, making her jump. Caroline quickly turned around.

Brown eyes stared back at her. Pity. Understanding. Caroline wanted to throw the woman's empathy back in her face, she wanted to gouge out her eyes and shove them down her throat, break every limb in her body until all she could feel was pain, the type of pain that tore at Caroline's very core. A soft whimper drew her eyes down to the bundle in Hayley's arms.

Caroline couldn't breathe. She had to get out.

She had to leave.

Now.

* * *

**I feel like I should go and hide right about now. **

**Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!**

**Till next time :)**


	3. Part Three

**Reading all of your reviews and support for this story has been amazing. Some of you certainly get fired up, don't you? :)**

**This is the last chapter for this particular story. The next instalment, **Heartlines**, should hopefully be on its way to you all within a week or two. **

**In the meantime, if you haven't already had the chance, please check out a small piece I wrote called **Small Bump** based on the Ed Sheeren song. **

**This story was inspired by the song **Thistle & Weeds** by Mumford &Sons. **

**Thank you all for reading :)**

* * *

Klaus growled low in his throat. Elijah was being insufferably moral, perched high on his seat like some bloody archangel, untouchable in all his judgemental glory. Klaus wanted to wipe the judgement from his eyes, to see them go blank but he knew, deep down, that his brother spoke true. He had been partly to blame for all this. But he would not, could not accept that his actions had led to Eva's endangerment. The Bayou was not without danger, Hayley knew that. Marcel would have attacked regardless of whether or not he had killed Genevieve. No, Klaus would not allow his brother to pin the weight of _that _on his shoulders.

As it was, Marcel had yet to show his face during or after the battle. No doubt he was lying low, hiding out in some hovel as he attempted to scramble together what was left of his pathetic excuse for an army. He would never say it, not aloud, but Marcellus' betrayal had cut deeper than he'd first thought. It was one thing to summon Mikael to New Orleans. To attack his child, that was something else entirely. So much for his 'no kids' rule, Klaus thought spitefully. He would see Marcel's head on a pike if it was the last thing he ever did. No matter the consequences.

And then there was Caroline. His sweet, beautiful Caroline who was oblivious to it all.

Klaus knew that he had waited perhaps too long to tell her the truth. He knew that she would not react favourably to Hayley's newfound position in his family. The truth of Genevieve's death would no doubt cause an argument to erupt between the two of them. But Eva? Klaus didn't know how she would react to the knowledge of Eva's existence. He knew though, that no matter how much it terrified him to do so, he had to tell her the truth. He just didn't know how.

All his life he had fought for control, for power. He had built himself up from nothing, constructing wall after wall to guard his heart, to make it impenetrable. He had thought that if people feared him, feared the very utterance of his name then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be so afraid. Mikael had terrified him, tormented him; he had beaten him so hard that he still felt the lash of his father's whip on his back, the stinging curl of its arch as it tore through his skin like butter. Even now, in death, the man terrified him.

Klaus needed to be in control. It was as simple as that. He could not let go of the past. No matter how hard he tried, Klaus could not forget the fear. It had shaped him into the monster that he was today. And now he was afraid, so terribly afraid once again, only this time it was of losing her. It was why he had lied for three weeks now, steering her away from the truth at every turn. He feared losing her, feared her leaving him.

They all left him...in the end.

"Niklaus –" Elijah started once more, his hand gripped tight around the spine of some ancient tome.

What he was going to say next, whether it was a continuation of their earlier argument or an apology, Klaus would never know as the door opened with a hurried click. Hayley surveyed the room, the fallen books and broken lamp, the smashed glass and wasted whiskey with an unimpressed arch of her eyebrow. Klaus ground his teeth at the interruption, moving forward to push the brunette out of the room when suddenly he noticed the bundle in her arms. As little hands pushed at the bloodied blanket, Klaus felt all the anger drain from him.

"How is she?" he swallowed, moving to survey the tiny creature fidgeting in Hayley's ever protective arms.

The werewolf shrugged nonchalantly, a small smile softening the harsh lines on her face at his hesitancy. "She's not going to bite, you know? At least not for a couple more years," Hayley smirked, moving to sit in a nearby chair, her arms gently swaying back and forth, lulling the restless child to sleep.

She looked up at him, her head tilted in contemplation, eyes narrowed.

Hayley laughed suddenly. "You really are an idiot, you know that?"

Klaus clenched his jaw. "Oh?"

Hayley simply grinned.

Elijah's suffering sigh was the only sound that could be heard. His brother pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He and Hayley were as bad as each other sometimes, so judgemental and so weary of the heavy load they seemed to bear. After all, it was no easy task keeping Niklaus Mikaelson in check. Well, the joke was on them. He was not something to be _handled. _He was the master puppeteer pulling all the strings. They danced to his tune, not he to theirs.

"Eva is fine," the young werewolf conceded as his glare deepened, her hand running over their sleeping child's face. "Caroline on the other hand..."

Klaus moved quickly toward the woman, stopping mere centimeters from the chair in which she lounged. She could thank their daughter for her continued existence on this earth. "Speak. Now."

The brunette stared at him, calm and unfazed by his burst of anger. "You didn't tell her, did you? All this time and you, what, couldn't find the right words, the right time?"

"What are you talking about?"

"_You know what I'm talking about_," Hayley spat, judgement flaring in her dark brown eyes. She grimaced sharply, licking her lips. "I pity that poor girl. To love you must be a curse. And to think, she had to hear it all while you two idiots bickered like an old married couple."

Klaus felt as though the ground moved violently beneath his feet. He swallowed hard. "What do you –"

"She came upstairs. I watched her, followed her and saw the exact moment that you broke her heart. And then, I watched her run."

Klaus shook his head in denial, eyeing the brunette in front of him. Hayley was a vindictive bitch. That was all this was, because it couldn't be true. He didn't think he could handle it if it was.

"If you love her, let her go," she continued. "Heaven knows I don't like Caroline Forbes. Truthfully, I can't stand her but even I can see that she deserves better than the likes of you."

He looked desperately for some sign of deception, some indication that her words were nothing but lies meant to cut and hurt him. He was searching for something that was not there.

Klaus sucked in a sharp breath.

And ran.

He would not let her go. He would not let her leave him. Not like this, not now.

Klaus ran as fast as he could toward the street. He had to find her. He had to explain. She couldn't leave him. He had been so close to telling her the truth. Why couldn't she have simply waited five more minutes?! Anger flared inside him at the thought. If Caroline had listened, had actually waited like she'd been told to, then maybe he wouldn't be here running after her like some fool. Klaus felt like he was always the one chasing, never the one being chased. At least, not by her.

He breathed deeply and closed his eye, letting his werewolf senses take hold. He could taste her on the wind, a sweet perfume that was so singularly _Caroline_ that it could belong to no one else. The werewolf in him stirred and Klaus quickly followed the scent.

He ran for such a long time. The city blurred around him, a beautifully distorted painting of colour and light and sound. He moved too fast for the human eye to see. Klaus didn't care about anything, about being seen or being stopped. He had to find her. It was as simple as that.

He had to make her stay. With him. That was all that mattered.

Finally, he saw her in the distance. A beautiful blur of gold and white; she was running, her legs moving as fast as they could as she pushed through the trees, branches tearing at her already ruined dress. She had run to the woods, through the woods, heading north at such a rapid speed that Klaus had to wonder if she'd even thought about what it was she was doing, or if her body simply moved on instinct.

She was fast.

He was faster.

Klaus tackled the blonde to the ground, his arms wrapping around her torso as she screamed in surprise and anger, her nails drawing blood as she clawed at him. She struggled in his arms, legs kicking, nails biting. He flipped her over, using his hands to pin her arms above her head. She glared up at him, hair a messy blonde halo of tangled leaves and dirt.

She was beautiful in her rage.

"Let me go," she kicked at his legs, trying to wriggle free from his grasp.

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down," he tried to reason with her, tried to placate the burning rage that festered in her eyes.

Caroline's jawed clenched. "Go to hell."

Her knee came up hard. Klaus' eyes widened at the impact. He let out a small grunt of surprise, his hands moving down instinctively toward the pain, as he rolled to the side. He'd probably deserved that.

Klaus looked up from the ground with a grimace, eyeing the blonde as she leaned against a nearby tree breathing hard. He felt a pang of guilt at the look on her face. She was scared. Of him. His Caroline; she was scared of the truth, of his words. He knew that she was confused and angry. She had every right to be. But she was also terrified, so completely terrified of the emotions he drew from her that it was simply easier to shut them off. That was the one thing, above her leaving him, that scared him the most. She couldn't turn it off. Klaus wouldn't let her.

"Lo –"

"No," she spat, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "You don't get to call me that. Not anymore."

Klaus pushed himself up from the ground. He tried to search for the right words, for some sort of explanation. Only two words came to mind. "I'm sorry."

"You lied to me," she cried, her hand clutching the tree behind her for support.

"I'm sorry."

"_You have a child_, Klaus," Caroline screamed, closing her eyes in pain. "How could you not tell me that?"

"I'm sorry?" she shook her head in disbelief.

"And what about Hayley? Genevieve? You killed her," Caroline persisted.

Every wrong, every word she threw at him cut deeper. He didn't know what to say other than 'sorry' over and over again like some simpleton. He had never been in this position before. In every other lovers spat he'd had over the years, all the women he'd let himself drown in, he'd simply killed them or moved on if they grew too bold or too tiresome. He couldn't do that with her. Caroline was different in so many ways. She was it, for him. Even if he moved on, even if he had to, she would always be it, the one, his dream.

It was why he let her scream, why he let her attack him without reproach. He would give her the white oak stake and let her kill him if it meant her forgiveness. That was all he wanted. Her forgiveness.

_Her_.

Caroline let out a pained cry, fresh tears falling. He tried to move towards her, to comfort her, but she backed away at his approach. The rejection stung.

Klaus licked his lips, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't know how to tell you," he confessed honestly.

"Didn't know how or didn't want to?" she countered, furiously wiping away the tears on her face.

"Both," his admittance drew a shaky breath from the blonde as she slowly slid down the tree, her head falling back against the bark.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

He watched her silently, noticing the slow rise and fall of her chest as her breathing evened out and her anger slowly subsided into despair. Klaus moved to sit next to her, their shoulders close but not touching. Her eyes remained closed, face turned toward the sky as she rested against the large oak tree behind them. For the first time in a very long time, Klaus genuinely hated himself for what he had done.

"Yes," he spoke quietly. "I was going to tell you about Hayley and Eva. I had planned to do it after I was done with Elijah."

Caroline laughed brokenly, blue eyes turning to look at him with sad despair. "Patience never really was my strong suit."

"Nor mine," he admitted sadly, lifting a tentative hand to cup her cheek. The fact that she let him touch her made his heart soar. "What now, sweetheart? Where do we go from here?"

He had finally dared to ask the gnawing question. It had plagued him ever since Hayley's spiteful declaration. Her words echoed in his mind in a vicious cycle.

_To love you must be a curse. _

_You really are an idiot, you know that?_

_She deserves better than the likes of you. _

_I pity that poor girl._

Round and round, her words ate at his confidence like a pack of ravenous vultures. But what hurt the most, what cut the deepest, was the truth he saw in them. Caroline did deserve better than the likes of him. She deserved so much better than a lying, murdering thousand year old bastard whose love bore only pain and destruction. His love was a curse.

Caroline's hand moved to rest across his. "I have to go home."

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "Don't."

"I have to, Klaus," her voice was soft and sad. Her hand gripped his tighter. "You're not ready for this. _I'm _not ready for this. We were fools to think otherwise."

Blind fools, he agreed silently.

He refused to open his eyes, to see the pain he knew would be reflected in her beautiful blues. It was easier this way. Rejection was so much easier to stomach when he didn't have to look it in the face.

"You lied to me. You didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth, Klaus. You didn't even trust me to accept your _daughter..._ I would have. If you'd told me about her, I would have," Caroline continued, her voice breaking at the admission. He would not cry. Not in front of her. He was stronger than that. "I love you. It's taken me such a long time to see it, but I do. I love you, Klaus Mikaelson."

His heart beat faster at her words.

After all this time, finally she admitted her love for him.

Caroline Forbes loved _him. _

"But we both need to grow as people before we can ever think about being together. We are two entirely different people with entirely different lives. I need to stop being so reliant on love for happiness and you, you need to learn to be better, to learn to trust, to be good...for Eva."

Caroline Forbes loved him.

And she was breaking up with him.

"Klaus, you need to change. _I_ need to change. And until we both do I don't think that this will work. We'd destroy each other in the end," her voice was beseeching and beautifully broken.

Just like him. Beautifully broken.

_If you love her, let her go._

He did love her, more than he had any other being his whole life. His love for his daughter was different. His love for Eva was soft and sweet, a warm burn that settled in his chest. Caroline was indescribable. She stole his breath. Everything he was belonged to her. Hayley was right. If he truly loved her, he would let her go. Klaus would not let his own selfish desires destroy her.

"I want you to promise me," his voice shook as he tried to regain some semblance of control. This was the hardest thing that he had ever done in his life. "I want you to promise me that when you go, you will not look back. I want you to live your life to the fullest. I want you to love and be loved. But I also want you to know that I will be here, waiting, until you're ready.

I will wait for you, Caroline Forbes, until the end of time if I have to. I will wait until we're both ready because you _are_ right. Of course, you're right. I need to change. And I will. But I want you to promise me that when you _are_ ready, you won't let fear hold you back. Promise you'll come back to me love... one day."

A long silence stretched after his words, only the sound of their soft, broken breaths could be heard. He waited, heart still in terror. He had never spoken so openly, so truthfully to another being before. He had laid his trust in her, just as she'd asked him to.

He felt her lips, soft and sweet, against his cheek. He could taste the saltiness of her tears on his lips.

"I promise."

He opened his eyes and she was gone.

* * *

**I know it may have been horrible of me to leave it there but I thought that the ending was fitting. **

**Keep in mind, the story is not yet over! **

**There may be a happy ending yet ;)**


End file.
